Oh, memory strike
down my waning pride,
and like the visceral
oceans in the sky,
fall each dawn as dew,
and surge each paling dusk,
pour like torrents
of monsoons \ hurricanes.
Serve only as a reminder
of the wars I've lost, and
the battles I've just begun.

Who are we?
Among those tiny stars.
Constantly raging wars.
Are we the knaves,
Diging up other's grave.
****** minds gain
Solace in others pain.

Who are we?
Who talk of ending one
When their own existence is uncertain.
Hunger struck,
Gazing at neighbour's neck.
To strike him to death,
Would quench his thirst.

Who are we?
Those who walk in pride,
But ignores the people's cries.
Or are we the one who speaks of big,
But his deeds are too wicked.

Who are we?
A clod of clay,
Made by Him who stays away,
From filthy minds,
But resides in hearts of those who are kind.

We are the sinful beings,
Who find peace in nothing.
Others sorrow makes us gay,
But others laugh makes us fury.
For what good are we?
Always crying until we attain our intentions.

'Who are we?'
The question remains unanswered.

We all stood for a loaf of bread .
We shared it and we had enough for the last time.
We played and laughed. That was the last time .
We sang and dance in that barren land. and that was the last time .
We wished and made fun of death , and that was last time .
The sky suddenly lit up !!
Everyone stood in their places and bread loaf with their hand ,and that was last time.
The curse of heaven tortured bread and love.
I stood up and look around ..
Everyone died after millions of stars fell.
I took a loaf of bread with me and completed my way..

Their words aren't just syllables
They're gunshots
Bullets released from the barrel
Not looking for laughter
But looking to ****
Taking the voices from those who need to use them most
Tears aren't just tears anymore
Tears have turned to blood
Flowing from every exit it can find
Arguments aren't just controversies
They're wars.

We may be on different boats,
However, we are on same ocean.
Each fighting battles,
Same battles
Different battles.

My battles?
It is my family!
It is my father,
The man I don't want to be.
It is my mother,
The woman I don't want to get acquainted with, save some things.
It is my siblings,
The person I want them to be.
It is myself,
The man I want and don't want to be.

It is my thoughts...

I try to fight "mine" battles,
I try to win my own wars.
Alas, how do I win this war when my thought is my enemies,
And my foes are my own self?

Sere and yellow,
Rough and round, [bright pebbles in a mound]
Pitted and mellow,
Winding our necks round,
We wore them.

Amber beads unearthed from clay,
Fashioned by my artist love,
Glowing yellow, filled with day,
Captures sunbeams from above.
I still love them.

Some say gods have made these,
To ensnare the light of Sun,
But we women saved these,
In memory & hope of sons,
We keep them.

Fat & smooth as butter,
We turned them in our hands.
The bone beads scraped with madder,
The amber just with sand.

Those of shadowy carnelian
Embedded like a shield,
We treasure as we fear them,
Like wounds on battlefields.

The others soaked with brownish earth,
Sere and yellow,
Rough and round, [bright pebbles in a mound]
Pitted and mellow,
Winding our necks round,
We wore them.

So, when we are dead, take not from us,
These rounded, golden suns,
But bury them with us, with sword and severed buss,
To revere the slaughtered ones,
Who never returned to us.

Revised November 15, 2016

Things that I could,
But stood still in front of you,
Verbosity of mine
Flew out of the window in a moments time,
Simple fellings that I had
Yes the same ones that once made me glad,
Today don't know why makes me a tad sad,
All this and more cause I didn't use my time
So I direfully lost what was mine,
But now there is a new hope
Not the one Luke had but still pretty dope,
This time the Jedi will return with a bang and will take revenge on its broken heart,
Will say what I should have all those years ago
Cause this Han ain't gonna be solo anymore
So Leia of mine don't worry its only a matter of time.....